The Beast
by SynsOrion
Summary: Not finished--based off of Beauty and the Beast but with a twist of course.


**Title**: The Beast

**Author**: SynsOrion

  
**Content**: PG

**Discription**: A version of Beauty and the Beast/the Phantom of the Opera written by me.  A girl seeks help and finds it from a creature that lives in the sewers.  Please r and r to tell me what you think.  The more reviews I get the more likely I am to write more! Please look at my other stories if you like this one.

~*~

          It was cold, dark, and rainy.  Perfect, everything was just perfect for him to be out.  The rain that clung to his cloak and fur smelled fresh, a scent that his nostrils rarely got the treat of inhaling.  He sighed with a small smile.  If it wasn't for those that lived up here, he'd be happy to just spend his life in the above world.  But he had to go back.  He almost hated it there.  He hated what was here more though.  There he was safe.  Everyone stared here, pointed, screamed…

          He closed his eyes tightly as he let out a low growl then jumped at the brickwork of the nearest building, finding claw holds in the masonry to hold onto, he rapidly scaled the building and was soon a dark shadow running across the building tops to the alleyway from which he had come.  Finding it, he dropped down, smelling gently for anything out of the ordinary.  Finding nothing that offset his senses he lifted the manhole cover from its spot.

          "Please!  Someone!  Anyone!"  He heard the female voice before he saw her dash headlong into the alleyway that he occupied.  She glanced at his cloaked figure.  His face and most of his body were masked from her sight, but she was quick to spot his exposed legs in the alleyway light, which resembled a lion's.  She stepped back slightly then looked behind herself and realized that she was safer with him than those who where chasing her.  She looked at him with pleading eyes.  "Please, help me, sir.  Save me."

          She gave a slight whimper when she noticed that her pursuers had arrived.  There were five of them, and all muscular.  Yet they refused to approach him.  It wasn't his seven foot six inch height that hindered them, nor was it the fact that he was heavily set either.  No, it was the same thing that had stopped her, the sight of his inhuman legs.

          "Wh--wha--wha--wha--what is it?!" one of them stuttered.  "I--it--it--it--it's not human!"  He winced, but stood where he was, watching them, wondering what they would do.

          "We should get out of here while we still can," stated another.  "While he's not attacking us."  He took a few steps back, hoping that his comrades would follow suit.

          "You guys are afraid of nothing!  It's hideous, true.  But it's gotta just be a guy in a costume.  I mean; nothing can actually exist that's that hideous."

          He eyed the speaker angrily as he let his hood drop from his head and slipped his cape from around himself, exposing ebony horns, a mane of white blonde hair, brown blonde fur, and sharp claws.  His eyes held uncontrollable rage and pain.  "Do you really think me hideous?" he growled.

          The man nodded stupidly but that was all that he had time to do.  He had leapt forward with an angry snarl and thrust his hand into the man's chest.  Pulling his arm free he licked the blood off.  "Does anyone else think the same?"  They stared at him dumbly.  His eyes narrowed as he flung the lifeless body from himself and against the alley wall.  Numerous bones popped from the impact before the limp form fell to the ground.  "Well?!" he snarled angrily, advancing slightly.  "Do you?!"  They shook their heads as they turned, almost falling in the wetness and dark as they made their way as quickly as possible from him and out of sight.  But he knew that he could, if the urge took him, hunt them down one by one and snap their necks.  He could easily catch up with them.  Their stench still filled his nostrils.  He snorted angrily, clearing his air passages of the offensive smell then headed back for the sewer pipe, almost tripping over the girl that the men had been chasing.

          She gave a frightened whimper, shivering.  "Please, don't hurt me."  He eyed her with confusion then looked up at the sky, letting the rain caress his face.

          "I wouldn't do something like that.  But I can see why you think that I would.  You can leave if you want."  She shook her head, staring at him with her pleading eyes.  He sighed heavily.  "I suppose that you need a place to hide out for a while, eh?"  She nodded eagerly.  "You could come with me, I suppose."  She didn't move.  "Well, then I'm going to have to carry you, I--I'm sorry."  He picked her up and, holding her in one arm entered the pipe and then pulled the manhole back over.  He started down the pipes to where he lived, wishing that he could've stayed out in the cool, open air awhile longer.

~*~

          His home actually consisted of a mattress, blanket, oil lamp, and small chest.  They had all come from the above world and had all been stolen, for who would actually sell to him?  It was the only way that he knew how to get things; to steal.  He knew of money, but that held no meaning for him.

          She was sleeping when he arrived, so he laid her upon his bed and when off into the pipes.  She would be safe there: no one would find her.  He was the only one who knew of her whereabouts now.

~*~

          She awoke to find herself alone and in a place that she had never seen before.  But the scent told her where she was.  That strange man had brought her.  She vaguely realized that she must've fallen asleep in his arms.  But she had felt safe with him.  Turning on to her stomach she held the pillow to herself.  It smelling of him as well…

~*~

          When he got back with the package, she was still asleep.  He watched her for a moment then gently shook her by the shoulder.  "Hey, miss.  I've got food for you.  I--" he shuffled his feet nervously.  "I didn't really know what you liked to eat."

          She looked up at him then at the brown paper bag in his left hand, hoping that it wasn't dead rats or something.  "What did you get to eat then?" she questioned.

          He opened the bag and, after fishing in it with one hand, pulled out an apple, much to her relief.  "I'm sorry, but I only have dried meat, if you wanted that."

          She shook her head.  I don't mind, sir.  Jerky is just fine."  He handed her the apple, and she took it gratefully, consuming it quickly and setting the core on the ground beside the mattress.

          "Here's the rest.  You can see what you want to eat."  He gave her the brown bag.  "I have to go, I'll be back in a little while."  After a quick glance between the bag and him she looked up at his face and gave him a smile.

          "Thank you, sir."  His brow wrinkled with slight confusion.  "I--I didn't mean to say anything wrong!  I'm sorry, sir.  Really."  He shook his head then left.

~*~

          When he came back she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up under her chin and her arms curled around her head, sleeping.

          He sat down on the bed, yawning.  The movement of the bed woke her and she turned to look at him.  "I'm sorry for waking you up, miss, but I'm tired.  I was going to go to sleep."

          "That's alright, sir." His brow furrowed once more.  "I--is it alright if I lay by you?  You do have a king-size mattress and I promise not to wake you up.  I'll stay on the other side, okay?"

          He nodded.  "Don't call me sir, though.  I'm not a 'sir'.  Call me beast if you're going to call me anything."  She frowned slightly as she gave him a tiny nod.  "Come on, lay down, then."  She did so, laying as far from him and as close to the side as possible, so that it looked as if she would fall.  He turned onto his side, facing her.  "You'll fall off if you lay like that."  He grabbed her, even as she was about to fall and moved her closer to the middle of the bed.  "You can use this too."  He draped a blanket over her.

          "Thanks," she whispered, curling up in the warm blanket.  He rolled on to his back and was silent.  She watched him, though half-closed eyes.  A few minutes later, he was snoring gently, soon after she had drifted off as well.

~*~

          When she awoke she found herself alone, in the middle of the large bed, curled up in the blanket that he had lent her.  She wondered absently at where he went all the time when he was gone.  She curled herself into a ball, whimpering.  She didn't like being alone; it frightened her.

          She began to think of him.  He was very nice...she did like him.  No one could ever love her though.  She felt the welt of protruding skin that ran the length of her chest.  She was ugly.

          "For who could ever love a hideous creature?" she questioned aloud.  For that was how she saw herself, hideous, and she believed it to be true.

~*~

          The beast was just coming back and was suddenly aware of a voice, her voice.  He listened to what it said and then closed his eyes tightly.  He opened them to look down at the solitary rose in his hand then threw it to the ground and stepped upon it, crushing the petals as he appeared within her sight.  "I think that you should go now.  It's been a day and a half.  Those men should be long gone by now."  Some how he had actually hoped that perhaps there would be a chance for them.  How could he have been so stupid, so blind?

          She shook her head.  "I don't wanna go.  I like it here," she stated.  She felt safe with him, knew that he'd protect her like no one else had.  Something was wrong though…

          "Who could ever love a hideous creature?!" he questioned harshly, his eyes full of pain.  She looked at him with slight fear; how could he know about her scar?

          "I--I didn't realize that you wouldn't understand," she said, hanging her head as tears ran from her eyes.  He inhaled sharply.  What was she talking about?  How could he not understand?  He was the hideous one.  What was there to understand?

          He turned and bolted down the sewers calling this over his shoulder; "I want you gone by the time that I get back."  He never wanted to see her face again for he knew that she would never be able to love him.

          She sighed heavily.  She'd thought that he, of all people, would understand…he thought himself a beast as well…  She stood, and, when she was just turning the corner to leave she found the rose, the petals crushed flat and the leaves ground into the masonry of the sewer.  Yet she still bent and picked it up and the tears of realization came to her eyes.  He'd heard the words that she'd said about herself and thought that they'd been for him…

          But he didn't want her here anymore.  She laid the smashed flower upon his bed as she found the empty brown bag and, using the ash from the lamp, wrote as best she could; 'those words were for me, not you'.  Setting the note next to the flower she left his home and started down the pipes.

~*~

          The beast, meanwhile, was further up the pipes in the other direction.  He tore at the brick angrily with his claws, leaving deep, gray gouges to mar the surface of the wall.  Those same marks covered the walls where he lived.  He continued until the flesh where his claws entered his skin had been torn open from the stress of which he'd been pulling and blood ran from the ebony tips of his claws.

          He winced; looking at his hands then went back to his dwelling.  He felt like lying down for a while.  When he got back he found the flower and the note that she'd left.  He didn't understand what it meant.  Had she not wanted him to hear her call him hideous?

          He heard a far off sound then; something like a splash and a cry and his eyes widened immediately with fear.  It was his fault.  She was going to drowned and it was his fault…

          He moved quickly down the pipes to where he'd heard the scream.  He had to save her.  He'd never forgive himself if he didn't.  His foot claws sank into the cement as he ran.  He stopped.  Here, it had been here…but she was long gone from this place by now.  He ran on.

          Then a splotch of white against the dull black, gray of the waters caught his eye.  It was her; it had to be.  He dove into the water without further thought and swam to it.  Her face was blue and she wasn't breathing.  He pulled her to the side of the pipe and, climbing out, began the journey back, clutching her close, a little child that had found a favorite toy that had been lost.

          He lay her down once he was back then tore the clothes from his body.  He needed clean water.  The stench was awful; it clogged his sensitive nostrils and made his mind reel.  Yet he still gathered her up as well as his discarded clothes and slipped back into the pipes and down to a place that he knew.

          He found it, past a broken wall in the pipe and through a tunnel that had been hollowed out.  The water was cool, refreshing, and clean.  He plunged into it, letting his clothes drop to the bottom as he tried to rid himself and her of the reeking odor that covered them.

          Brow wrinkled, he looked upon her blue face.  She still wasn't breathing well.  Her breathing was shallow, as if something was in her lungs, blocking them.  He lay her down upon the ground and bent over her, wondering what to do.  What had his father taught him?  He covered her mouth with his and blew into her.  He pressed his hands upon her chest and pushed down; trying to force the water out of her then listened to her to see if she was breathing well yet.  He blew breath into her once more, hoping…

          Suddenly she coughed, as water spurted out of her mouth then inhaled sharply, trying to take in new air for her lungs.  He was away from her in an instant and once more in the clear water.  Shafts of light shown down upon him as he splashed the liquid over his body in another attempt to rid himself of the offensive smell.

          She lay there, her head turned slightly, wondering how she'd gotten in this place.  She saw the beast walk out of the water and go to a corner then enter the water once more.  Soon after a pleasant smell drifted up to her and she realized that it was the scent of soap.  Then came the realization that she smelled terribly and she suddenly remembered falling into the sewer waters.  Had he rescued her?

          Standing, she walked into the water next to him and began trying to cleanse herself as well.  He looked at her and then turned away, hiding his face in the darkness that covered almost everything.  The water was black except for where the light touched it, making it an indigo with a hint of emerald.  She found it hauntingly beautiful.  He handed her the soap then went to find his clothes that he'd let fall in the dark liquid earlier.

          She moved to a shallower spot and, sitting down, began to scrub herself with the soap.  She rinsed her hair in the water, and cleaned her body as best as she could.  That was when she noticed, in what light there was, the slight smudge of red upon her clothes.  She wasn't hurt though.

          A sudden thump came to her ears as she heard him fall.  What had happened anyway?  He'd told her nothing of what had gone on…  She bolted to her feet, ran to him, and now it was her turn to stare down at a limp form.  He'd gotten his pants on and his cape was clutched in one hand.  Across his chest was a deep red gash that stood out angrily in comparison to his fur.  He'd been injured rescuing her, that was the only answer.  She quickly ripped a strip of cloth from her clothes, wetted it in the water, added some soap, then began to clean the wicked looking cut.

          He moaned, his eyes opening slowly as he reached a hand up and set it upon her.  She looked first at his face in the dim light then realized that his hands were extremely cold and turned to looking at those.  She found small tears all over.  "What are you doing?"

          "Trying to help you," she stated softly as she moved back to the wound upon his chest.  "I think that you got hurt when you rescued me."  She looked at his face.  He turned to the side so she couldn't see his eyes.

          "Yeah, there was a piece of glass or something in the sewers when I dove in.  But I needed to hurry; I didn't have time to worry about that.  But I'm okay.  I can walk."  He pushed her from himself and stood, his legs quivering slightly.

          She watched him.  "What happened to your hands?  Why are there so many cuts on them?  Did someone do that to you or did--did you do it yourself?" she asked, finishing in a voice barely above a whisper.

          He growled low in his throat, snorting.  "I'm going back to my home, wanna come with, or do you wanna stay here?  If you're coming, leave the soap.  That stays here."

          She nodded.  "I'm coming with."  She gave a final glance back at the black waters that she'd just been in and set the bar of soap upon a stone.

          He made as if to pick her up but she moved away from him.  "You're injured, you can't carry me.  It will hurt you more.  I'll follow you.  I promise to be careful."  He looked at her for a moment then growled low in his throat and turned away, his eyes hard.  He still didn't really believe what she'd said.  He knew that she'd been talking about him when he'd heard her say those words she had to have been…

~*~

          They arrived back at his home about a half an hour later and he lay down on his back upon his bed.  She sat down next to him and he turned to the side, facing the wall and away from her.  She frowned.  "Alright, I can see that you didn't believe my note.  Well, I'll show you then."  He turned over as she pulled up her shirt, exposing the long scar.  "I was talking about myself."  She laughed dryly.  "I've dated men before that broke up with me after they found out that I had a scar."  She turned from him and stood.  "I guess that I just thought that you'd understand me…  I'm going to leave, I guess.  You don't want me here anyway."

          "Wait a sec."  He sat up and grabbed her by the hand.  "I'm sorry, okay?  I suppose that it shouldn't hurt me so much when I'm called ugly or something, but it hurts just as much as it ever did."

          She looked at him with slightly curious eyes then sat back down.  "I have a question.  Why was there a rose on the ground?  Was it for someone?"

          He gave her a small nod.  "Who?" she questioned.  He shook his head.  He'd over reacted.  Besides, she was still beautiful, even if she said that she wasn't.  He was the hideous one…


End file.
